The Magic in Our Lives
by TheLittleSunflower
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is angry at his inconsiderate boyfriend Alfred F. Jones. But when this anger causes lots of... magical... problems, will Arthur be able to fix it? (UsUk)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there my wonderful readers! Prepare for strangeness and voids and magicks and oops I said too much. Anyway, have the mandatory stuff.**

 **Pairings: USUK and knowing me, I'm probably gonna sneak some PruCan in here. OH and there's also gonna be (*is drugged and dragged away before spoiler*)**

 **Warnings: I don't think there's any swearing in this one but I don't feel like rereading it at the moment (I'm tired, don't blame me).**

 **Disclaimer: Yeah I totally own Hetalia. That's why I'm writing a FANfiction.**

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 **Arthur Kirkland. England. Iggy. The United Kingdom of Britain and Northern Ireland. Simply Britain, or U.K. Whatever you call him, he was down in his basement, working on his newest potions. He had started them months ago and they were almost finished. It was an intricate process that had to be done very caref-** ** _BANG!_**

"Yo Artie!" Oh good. His boyfriend was home. Sighing, he tried to wipe off the mix of potions that had spilled on himself, but to no avail. All of his hard work, gone. He stumbled upstairs, not paying attention to where he was walking, and tripped on the top step, tumbling out of the basement and landing face-first at the feet of his wonderfully arrogant boyfriend. The man who was so egotistically self-dubbed as "the hero". Alfred F. Jones bursted out laughing at the embarrassed Brit as said Brit lifted himself up to his feet, dusting himself off.

"You git! You could have helped me up."

Trying to calm himself, Alfred replied with, "Sorry dude, but that was hilarious!" Being his regular, tsundere self, Arthur stalked off to the couch. "You could be a little more considerate, Alfred." Alfred plopped down onto the couch next to him. "Nah."

"Why must you always do this?" Being his regular, unable to read the atmosphere self, Alfred asked, "Do what?"

Arthur sighed. "I ask you to please be considerate of my work. Then you come barging into the house and made me spill." He gestured to the stains on his normally exceptionally clean sweater vest (it had somehow seeped through his cloak). 0In response, Alfred slung his arm over the couch, above Arthur's shoulders. "Pfft. You can't blame other people because you dropped your colorful water."

Spluttering, Arthur grabbed Alfred's arm off of the couch behind him and threw it at him, spitting out, "It is not colourful water! They are magic potions that can be extremely dangerous if mixed incorrectly!" Pouting, Alfred leaned back into the couch. "Potato, potatoh. It's all stupid anyway. Like that squirrel that you think is always flying around. We get it old man, you're going senile."

Needless to say, Arthur was quite offended. He jumped up and stood in front of Alfred. "Flying Mint Bunny is neither stupid nor a squirrel, and he is very real! And I am _not_ going senile and I am not that old! Magic is real, you just don't believe!" Following his boyfriend's example, Alfred stood up as well. "Look dude, I was just making a joke, but if you're going to get all defensive-"

"I am not being defensive. How else am I supposed to respond when you are blatantly making fun of things that I love?"

Alfred stood to his full height so he was now towering over the smaller nation. "I'm the hero! You just can't stand my totally heroic way of humor!"

Arthur shook his head. "You arrogant, little- how was that heroic in any way?"

Ignoring the question, he fired back. "So now I'm arrogant? Well, you're uptight!"

"You're an egotistical brat who has no consideration for anyone but yourself!"

"Your cooking is the most horrible thing that has ever existed!"

"Your obsession with hamburgers is unhealthy and you're getting fat!"

"You spend all of your time talking to imaginary friends because no one else will!"

"You are seemingly too dense and idiotic to ever read the atmosphere or comprehend anything!"

"You can't do anything right seeing as how almost every single one of your colonies left you!"

"I wish I gave you to France!"

There was a long moment of dead silence as both parties present took the time to let the last statement sink in. Hurt flashed across Alfred's expression before it was quickly replaced by an unreadable one. He stormed out, muttering "I'm gonna stay at Mattie's place." and slamming the door on his way out. Tired from the whole ordeal, Arthur went to bed, barely registering that Alfred had been talking about his twin brother, and failed to notice a number of things. These being that the entire world had slightly shifted, his house suddenly looked different, and the stains on his clothes were slightly glowing ominously.

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 **I apologize for this being so short! I could've added some stuff to this chapter but I felt like 1) this was a good way to stop; 2) the part I wanted to add would fit so much better in a new chapter; and 3) this is kinda a prologue thing so it's fine, right? But I'll try to make other chapters longer!**

 **I hope I did that argument between them correctly this time. I looked at my** _ **rough**_ **draft and that argument basically went "Hey I want food." "You never cared about me!" so...yeah.**

 **Anyway, I'll try to update regularly but I procrastinate (not gonna lie), sorry! In fact, this story itself has been procrastinated for so long. Sorry for my friend who I'm writing this for! When'd she tell me this plot idea? November? Whoops it's February. I won't procrastinate this much again, I (will try to) promise!**

 **I also have sooo many plot bunnies swirling in my head. They wouldn't stop bothering me so I outlined an entire plot complete with intricate backstories in the span of half an hour so the plot bunnies would leave me. But that was only one of them. There are others. They are ganging up on me. Please help.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Before I say anything else, I'd like to start with the disclaimer that I forgot in the first chapter. All characters belong to Himapapa. However, the plot does not belong to me. That credit all goes to** _ **Alfred Jones-Kirkland**_ **, one of my awesome friends who wouldn't write this story because she thinks she sucks at writing (totally not true). So I wrote it! I made a bunch of details, of course, but all were approved by her!**

 **Now that that's out of the way, SORRY! I finished this over a month after I said I would finish it…. I warned you guys! But I made this chapter really long! If that's any consolation!**

 **Without further ado, here you go!**

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Arthur awoke with a start. The night before, he had laid in bed, clutching his cellphone, wondering if he should call Alfred before he fell asleep. During the night, it somehow wormed it's way up onto his pillow, right next to his ear. Said phone began ringing, at full volume. Needless to say, it startled the crap out of him.

Grumbling, he ignored the caller ID and answered with an anything but cheery, "'Ello?"

"Arthur!"

"What in the bloody hell do you want?"

"Now, is that any way to talk to your dearest brother?" Arthur could practically hear the grin spreading across dear Allistor's face. But why the hell was Scotland so _awake_ this early in the morning? He usually sleeps in while Arthur makes sure to get up extra early to look in order to look over documents, get ready for upcoming meetings, and the like.

"Yes. Now what in the bloody hell do you want?"

Allistor was seemingly able to tell that he wasn't going anywhere with that. "I was just calling to check up on my little brother!"

"I'm hanging up."

"No wait! Okay, fine. I was wondering if you were coming to the meeting today at my place. I mean, it's been so long, you must be over it by now!"

Thoroughly confused, Arthur groggily replied, "What are you talking about? What meeting? Over what?"

A loud sigh was audible through the phone. "The meeting that I've been telling you about for a month? If you didn't want to come, you could've just said so."

Groggily, Arthur sat up. He was still confused, but if there was a meeting, then he had to be there. "When is it?"

"In an hour."

"Why is it so early in the morning?"

"Arthur, it's 1 in the afternoon."

He nearly shot his head to his bedside table where it was confirmed that it was, indeed, 1:07pm. Had he really slept in that late? That seems very unlike him.

"Send me directions to your place. Haven't been there in a while."

Almost instantly, it seemed as though Allistor perked up. "You're going to come?" Arthur ignored the fact that Allistor was being uncharacteristically kind and friendly towards him. Where was the sudden bursts of anger that he was used to?

Pushing himself off of the bed, he held his phone in between his ear and his shoulders, using his now free hands to get dressed. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You...I'll text you the directions."

"Alright. Then I'll be there soon."

"Okay...see you soon…"

Deciding to ignore all of the strangeness of the phone call, Arthur began contemplating the strangeness of the meeting. Why was it so sudden? He was informed of all meetings at least a week in advance. Allistor had said that he had been telling him about this for a month, but he didn't recall any word of it whatsoever. And it wasn't like any of his brothers to remind him of anything. He was the responsible one. If anything, he would have to remind them about everything. It was _never_ the other way around. However, Arthur was too tired to ponder more on the entire abnormality of it all and simply continued to get dressed. He just hoped nothing else would end up being so strange.

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That hope crashed and burned as soon as he stepped out of his bedroom. Now noticing that the hallway seemed misplaced, he turned around and stared back inside of his room. It was completely trashed. Clothes were strewn across everything, papers were scattered on his desk (wasn't that desk in his office?), and everything was extremely messy. Much more disheveled than Arthur would ever allow.

He tried to ignore everything and walked downstairs. That didn't work, however, as his house seemed considerably smaller, and considerably messier, than it had been the night before. Now that he was thinking about it, his house looked the size it had been before he had those renovations and additions made. He hadn't seen his office, which had been one of the many, many additions, and he distinctly remembered having his desk in his room before he had an office. Arthur was groggy, cranky, and tired (so basically his regular self) and simply ignored the glaring differences, making himself some coffee before grabbing his keys and heading out to his car.

His phone buzzed with the directions to his brother's place and he used it as a distraction so he would not bother himself with the fact that his car was different; it was the old one he had decades ago. He slipped inside, coffee in one hand and phone and briefcase in the other, setting them down, respectively, in the cup holder, on the dashboard, and on the passenger seat. Turning on the radio to further distract himself, he set off to the supposed meeting, occasionally glancing towards his phone at the directions sent to him. It seemed rather odd. He didn't remember ever traveling this way before.

Nearly 3 hours later, Arthur reached his destination, jaw dropping in awe. Allistor's house was nearly 4 times the current size of his own and it left him utterly speechless, not to mention the extremely expensive looking car in the driveway and the beautiful botanical garden that Arthur now realized he no longer had. Where did Allistor get the expenses to cover all of this? And what happened to Arthur's own possessions?

"Arthur!" The front door swung open to reveal Allistor Kirkland, in all of his glory. No, better than that. He was wearing a fine pressed, well-tailored suit that fit him perfectly. And his unusual friendliness still seemed to be present.

His auburn hair was as unruly as ever, however, and a cigarette was hanging from his mouth. That much, at least, hadn't changed.

Bounding down the front steps, Allistor quickly ushered Arthur inside. The interior of the house seemed even larger than it had been on the outside, if that was even possible. The front room consisted of a fireplace with a large flat-screen television above it, surrounded by couches and chairs and loveseats. A large staircase with marble railings led up to higher levels of the house. There was a ginormous door opposite of the front door that led to the kitchen, which Allistor promptly refused to let him peruse through. A grand hallway filled with some of the most beautiful paintings Arthur had laid eyes on, along with a large quantity of doors that gave way to guest rooms, led into a foyer that could have been an entire library.

During a tour of the entire estate, Arthur had so far seen dozens of guest rooms, a mini-golf room, an arcade room, a bar full to brimming with different types of liquor (whiskey being the most prominent, of course), a closer look at the botanical garden (where Arthur saw some of the faeries that used to reside in his own garden), and so many others that he lost track of what they all were. He also discovered that the kitchen had its own personal chef (after he finally got Allistor to agree to let him into it).

Arthur had been confused as to why a world meeting was being held in a nation's house instead of in hotels as per usual, but the sheer grandiosity of the mansion (this seemed to be the proper word for it) had given him clarity to one question. However, it gave way to nearly a million more, the most prominent of which was how the bloody hell was this possible?

Confusion continued to sweep through him, growing with each and every room they passed. When they finally reached what Allistor called the conference room, his perplexity had gotten to the point where he felt as though he were going to explode right that instant.

As the doors swung open, everyone's heads turned towards them. Murmurs were heard throughout the room as nations whispered amongst themselves, seemingly in astonishment.

It was quieter than any of the meetings he had attended so he had been able to pick up some of the conversations throughout the room as he and Allistor walked towards the end of the elongated table.

"I can't believe he got him to come…"

"Haven't seen him in years, decades even…"

"I didn't think he'd show up…"

"Did he finally get over it?..."

Nothing helped clear up his befuddlement. These merely added to the strangeness of the situation. These were the people who he had seen nearly 2 weeks ago at the previous world conference. And get over what? Everyone seems to be saying that today!

Looking towards the back of the room, he saw Alfred sitting next to Francis, whispering amicably. They both snuck glances towards him, looking away altogether when they noticed he was looking at them.

Arthur nearly scoffed. One argument, one little argument, and Alfred went running to the man he knows Arthur hates to annoy him. And frankly, it did. Nevertheless, he kept his composure and navigated through the unnatural, uncharacteristic silence and decided to handle one problem at a time. The first of which being to figure out what the hell was going on. To do that, he would have to survive the pandemonium that was sure to ensue, as it was at any world meeting.

Scotland took stood behind his seat and pulled out the chair next to his, motioning for Arthur to sit. Still standing, Allistor cleared his throat and the murmurs silenced almost instantly. That was strange.

"As everyone now knows, England has finally decided to join us for the first time in, what is it, 70 years?" He had never bothered to put out his cigarette and it was still hanging precariously out of the side of his mouth.

 _70 years ago? When was that? Around the end of World War 2? But I've been coming to every meeting ever since then!_ Unable to reach any further conclusions, Arthur decided to do the next best thing: find someone trustworthy who could simply, yet thoroughly, explain to him what was happening. And he knew just the person.

Scanning his eyes around the room, he looked carefully for a specific nation. Not finding who he was looking for, he scanned the table again. And again. And again.

Scotland had sat down and Germany was now discussing some sort of international trading issues, ones which Arthur did not remember ever hearing about. After the 10th time searching the room, Arthur decided to speak up.

"Does anyone happen to know where Canada is?"

Germany, who had been in the middle of describing the current diplomatic relations between himself and Italy, as it was CERTAINLY not romantic, suddenly stopped speaking and stared at him.

Almost instantaneously, a chorus of "Who?"s was heard as everyone's heads snapped towards him. He knew that Canada was often forgotten, hell he probably wouldn't have remembered him unless he needed him, but this seemed ridiculous. He knew for a fact that there were some people who never forgot about Canada. The first particular name he thought of was of someone who he could see further down the table. Someone who wasn't supposed to be here. Someone with a seat and name plaque and all. The albino Prussian. The other he thought of off the top of his head was of the man currently sitting next to and exchanging worried glances with Arthur's boyfriend.

"Matthew Williams?"

No response.

"Oh come on America, you were over there last night!"

All heads snapped towards the aforementioned American. Arthur now noticed that he didn't have a name plaque as everyone else did. He shifted nervously under all of the gazes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

From his right, Francis spoke up. "He was at home with me last night."

Suddenly infuriated, Arthur shot out of his seat. "What the hell do you mean he was at your house last night?!"

Bewildered at the sudden outburst, everyone jolted in their seats. Francis slowly raised his and Alfred's intertwined hands. "We _are_ married."

Confusion and hurt shot throughout Arthur's body. "Married? When did this happen?"

Many nations shared more worried glances with one another. "We have been married for many years now, Angleterre. You know this. You were at the wedding."

Trying to calm himself down, Arthur's fiery green glare met the calm, blue stare of the Frenchman. Blinking, Arthur stumbled back, pushing the chair out of the way and running out of the conference room. Ignoring the shouts behind him, he sprinted towards what he hoped was the exit. However, in his current state, he was unable to recall where anything had been. Utterly lost, Arthur collapsed in a random hallway, sitting against the wall and curling his knees into his chest. He didn't know when he had started, but he had been crying. No longer able to control himself, he sobbed freely, not noticing the figure coming towards him in the hall.

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 **Well, this has been sitting on my computer for about 2 days. It was finished, I just didn't get around to uploading it...hehe sorry about that. I really thought I was gonna get this out earlier, whoops.**

 **Anyway, reviews make me write faster (they really do! No joke!) so if you could, review please! You get a cookie!**


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